


He Who Seeks None.

by DisturbedWritter



Series: Saint Saga [1]
Category: Lovecraftian - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Arson, Desert Island, Eldritch Abomination, Gen, Icefishing, Murder, Mystery, Psychological Horror, Weird Horror, Weird Plot Shit, what the fuck just happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisturbedWritter/pseuds/DisturbedWritter
Summary: My third story on ao3 and by far my best writing. I forgot about the actual character St.John so fuck me.
Relationships: St.John/Island St.John & Narrator
Series: Saint Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799077
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	He Who Seeks None.

**Author's Note:**

> Go easy on me

I will never forget my departure of my friend St. John, my best friend. I remember the dreaded reality that came to our lives. During a trip from ice fishing, a storm mingled with disaster. The waves of Poseidon roared and danced hostilely. Blue and white kissed the lightning that came below, St. John ripping out his hair in our canoo. The booming held him in a scarce and depressed state of confusion and anger. Such emotion I have not seen him display, such emotion which no mortal man or animal should be in.   
  
The goal was home, the farthest we reached was a river. Going upstream, harsh winds flew a cascade of tree limbs. We rowed with the might of the best men in the world but to no avail. The love for our wives would motivate us-- well, motivate me. John had no mortal tyings, only the faith in pagan gods. He taught me the many things of Greek lore.    
  
We resided near a small island that connected to a myriad of icy spires. We crashed our boat into a palm tree. This area was mix matched all over, flowers in black, almost volcanic, ground. Sand gave birth to endless mushrooms. Boars chased serpents and cows ate meat. I was entranced in the strangeness while John acted even stranger. A hybrid of biomes and elements was drawn right in front of us yet my friend was unmoving. St. John turned into a specimen for the island.   
  
After a couple of hours, we explored our new world. Rain forests to Savannas. We witnessed runes.   
  
_“My dear partner, retreat to the entrance. I must bring myself to read this blasphemy.”_ Mad John limped through the misty mud. I did as he said, fearing his insanity.   
  
He came back with a calm look to him. He had a rock with him connected to a pipe.   
  
_“Greetings! Care to help me?_ ” another rock-pipe appeared behind him. There were other Homo sapiens with us, all with tribal tattoos. I noticed a small triangle upon his forehead. Their king as I thought.   
  
Night came soon after, the tribe gave us animal skins, I layed in the dirt like sand. John laughed then sobbed then laughed once more. Madness and regularity trying to take hold. Sleeping with a knife of black clay and with an eye open. Waking up to a new boat.   
  
The sail is made from the same animal skins and leaves. Torches were thrown at every direction but mine. King John battled tribesmen from every angle.   
Logs nor spears would break his resolve.    
  
_ “Scatter, my brother! Worry not for I, Andras, shall reap these slaves of the wild!”   
_   
He kicked me to the makeshift boat, giving it enough force to sail. It was along the ocean as the island burned in a huff of red flame. Returning to my family, the townspeople asked where John was. I told them he died in the storm, a comforting lie. No one would believe that he was a ‘God’ for I do not know if they exist. I know one thing though…   
  
St. John is alive in my dreams. He seeks to turn me into his kind. Not a man, not a monster. Just nothing and as I write this down, my time is soon. That is how I meet He who seeks none, the none of a human soul and mind.   



End file.
